


Sparks of Conversation

by Lightbulbs



Series: Sparks [2]
Category: Reckoners - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Gen, Post-Canon, Spoilers for Calamity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 16:24:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17666003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightbulbs/pseuds/Lightbulbs
Summary: Mizzy has a question for David.





	Sparks of Conversation

The steel catacombs were a great place to brood. They were dark, with cool air whispering through the winding tunnels. Depending on where Mizzy went, she could avoid being seen by the other Reckoners and spend some time alone.

“What’s up?”

_Except for today, apparently._

David walked over with a wave. “Oh, nothing much,” she replied, plastering on a cheery grin. She tried to ease the electric buzz in her limbs, but… no control yet. Her hair felt staticky.

He gave her a look, and she grimaced. Despite the initial awkwardness between them after the chaos in Babilar, she and David had become close.

He saw that she was lying.

“Mizzy, come on. If something’s bothering you, you can tell me.” She watched as his fingers curled around a small metal ball, shaping it into spiky oblongs with his newly manifested powers. It was a habit he’d picked up sometime after they’d made it back to Newcago.

“How can you do that?” she asked, pointing to his hands.

“Huh?” David glanced at the viscous metal, then back at Mizzy. He looked baffled. “How can I… I mean, you know my power portfolio, right? Steel manipulation?”

Mizzy smacked her forehead. “No! I mean, _yes_ , I know about your powers.” _It’s not like you hide them or anything._ She gestured at the metal ball, which currently looked like a shiny peanut. “How can you just… use them?”

“You mean because of the whole hating Epics thing?”

“Way to just come out and say it. _Yes_ , how can you use your powers without feeling terrible? How can you live with yourself knowing you’re…” She trailed off.

“Excellent at metaphors?”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.” Mizzy sighed.

The metal in David’s hand stopped moving, growing as still as David himself. He had a faraway look in his eyes. “Mizzy, when I ran into Regalia before meeting up with you that night, she tried to give me Epic powers.” He smiled wryly. “She succeeded, though I didn’t know it at the time.”

“Huh?” Mizzy frowned, thinking about the time just before Ildithia. “What do you mean?”

He clenched his fist, and the metal compressed in his hands, bits of silver oozing out from the gaps between his fingers. “I mean, the reason for the crazy plan with Prof? It was because I thought that me fighting against my fears had stopped the corruption.” He paused. “Even though I was having nightmares, I didn’t want to believe it. I _refused_ to believe I was an Epic.”

Mizzy remembered a time when David had woken up with his shirt soaked through with sweat. Megan had comforted him, and the two had shared this _look_ that Mizzy thought was just apocalyptic lovey-dovey stuff. Apparently there was more to the story.

“What changed your mind?”

“When I went against Calamity… Oh, sparks, how can I describe it? I saw my father in that other world, and it just clicked. Abraham’s teachings, everything.” David swallowed. “It was weird at first, not hating Epics. Meeting Prof changed that. Megan even more. I think… they made it okay.”

Mizzy considered this. She didn’t hate Megan, not anymore. She definitely didn’t hate David. So why should she hate herself?

She snapped back to attention just in time to see him shoot her a rueful grin. “Any reason you want to know?”

“Uh,” she said, thrown by his sudden question. A hazy veil of electricity rose up from Mizzy’s skin, and she could see the hairs on David’s arms rise up. _Sparking sparks,_ she thought.

She needed to get away. She needed to—

“Think of it like a button, or a knob,” David said, slicing through her panic. He closed his eyes. “Imagine the knob, then turn it down.”

Mizzy thought of fixing up a motivator, of disassembling the parts and putting everything back together. Along the side, she imagined a small dial. When she twisted it to the left, the output went down. The thrum of the motivator ceased.

She could feel the tension in her body relaxing, if only a bit. As she opened her eyes, she could see David looking at her. “...Thanks,” she finally said.

“No problem,” he replied. He looked down the tunnel, back towards the base. “I think Abraham wanted someone to help him look over some weapons. Know of anyone who might be interested?”

“Maaaybe,” she drawled, and the two of them began walking back.


End file.
